


Dreamlike

by Crescence



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Actually Blame Philkas for everything, Blame Philkas, Gift Fic, I don't know what happened okay, Intense Studying, M/M, My life is destroyed, Someone give Lukas Waldenbeck the most in love teenager to ever teenage award, Then not so much studying, This was supposed to be cute sleepy cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:21:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescence/pseuds/Crescence
Summary: It’s the way when he thinks he wants to kiss him, it’s Philip that closes that one inch between their faces. His eyelashes brush against his cheeks and Lukas barely sighs into the quiet of it. Philip moves so slowly, he is a vision woven with threads of silver, ethereal and more beautiful than anything Lukas has ever seen.





	Dreamlike

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeaHouseMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaHouseMoon/gifts), [andromedagalaxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedagalaxy/gifts).



> This is for Doro for being one of the bravest people I know. There are kinds of strength that speaks in weights or distances or is written across the history of life as the human's most glorious moments. And there are other kinds of strength that one can only find in silence. Strength in how you hold yourself firm against the tide, how you fight the darkness no one else can see, how you make the decision to stay, every single day. You are brighter than you realize for the life you have chosen, over and over again, more than the rest of us. 
> 
> And this is for Allie, because when life gives you lemons she throws them in the trash and gives you cupcakes instead. This is my cupcake for you because like someone wise once said, we all need a little fluff.

He falls asleep somewhere between the eleventh and fourteenth probability question. Lukas asks him what he got for thirteenth and looks up when he doesn’t answer. Philip has his head resting on his left arm, pencil still in his right hand and the tip of his nose scrunched against the textbook he was scribbling answers on. A sudden wave of love throbs through the linings of his heart. Lukas props his chin on his hand, watching the way Philip breathes through parted lips. His eyelashes tremble with faint movement, the length of them endless enough for Lukas to sigh into his hand with a soft smile on his lips as his eyes follow their inky curve from beginning to end. He reaches with his free hand and his fingertips brush lightly through his unruly curls until his hand rests flush against his cheek; so slow, it doesn’t wake him.

His thumb moves lightly across cheekbones his lips has memorized and Lukas looks down at his textbooks, at the vast concept of probability he is being taught to calculate and wonders what their probability was. His eyes find the sharp angle of his jawline, pause on the maddening, impossible curve of his lips and skims across the smooth skin and he wonders if any of these rules he will be putting on a piece of paper for his finals tomorrow could ever calculate the probability of him finding Philip Shea, who slipped into his life like a miracle from a city of millions and fell in love with him despite his demons. While he watches Philip and feeling his own breathing fall in sync with his, his mind brings the memory of Philip reaching out to him under a tree, the feel of his lips against his and how he had learnt through him, what forgiveness tasted like. His first real glimpse into what he had always thought was impossible. Lukas is good at math, he has always been good at math, but he thinks, his eyes closing, there isn’t an equation of probability the human mind can comprehend that could calculate the wonder of Philip Shea choosing him.

 

It’s Helen that wakes him up with a hand on his shoulder and urges them to go to bed. Philip is rubbing his eyes, the left side of his hair plastered flat to his scalp while the other side is a mop of wild curls sticking out in every direction. As drowsy as he feels, Lukas wants to cards his fingers through that mess and kiss him deep enough to wake him to the core. They leave all their books on the kitchen table and wobble upstairs to Philip’s room. Lukas almost falls asleep again waiting for his bathroom turn and by the time he is back, Philip already is.

He slips under the covers and curls himself around Philip from behind. Before he can even react to the hair at the nape of Philip’s neck tickling his nose, he is fast asleep.

 

 

_He bursts into the sky with his bike roaring beneath him. The wind finds its way into his helmet, prickling against his skin and he lets go of the handles as thrill shoots through his veins like electric. He allows his body to arch backwards, nearly lying back on the seat with his legs tight around the middle frame and the bike falls into a reverse spin, a graceful roll back into itself and the world whirls around him before he is upright again. The handles find his grip like he’d never let go and he lands sure on the ground like an eagle perching atop his nest. His tires spew earth as he finishes with a wide curve and there isn’t an inch of him that isn’t buzzing with adrenaline as he pulls his helmet off and Philip is right there, sunlight in his eyes and sunlight in his hair, smiling so wide it makes the world around him shrink. Lukas reaches for him with both hands, claims his lips with complete abandon, pours that sense of soaring he still feels in his gut right into him-_

_‘I trust you’, Philip says, crystal blue around him. Lukas pulls him in, holds him tight, wraps his legs around his waist. Water reflects speckles of light in the hot brown of his eyes and they float through the glimmering blue like they belong to nothing. There isn’t a filament of the universe they are attached to as they glide in the warmth and Lukas loses himself in the specks of light playing on his face-_

_The test is empty and he doesn’t know how to answer questions that doesn’t exist. He looks up and around him and sees everyone busy with answering and feels panic seeping into his blood and then he catches sight of Philip, sitting two seats behind on the middle row and he is smiling at him, raising an empty test sheet and calm expands inside him because he knows, he remembers with the full curve of Philip’s smile, you don’t have to answer the same question twice-_

It’s the moonlight slitting through the blinds they’ve forgotten to close dancing on his skin. It’s the way Philip’s eyes open at the same time his do, as if they were having the same dream, as if there isn’t a shred of existence burning within them that isn’t bound to one another, as if they breathed together with even hearts, while yet unconscious. It’s the way neither of them are all the way awake, still wrapped in three folds of sleep and so warm with the feel of the other against him. It’s the way when he thinks he wants to kiss him, it’s Philip that closes that one inch between their faces. His eyelashes brush against his cheeks and Lukas barely sighs into the quiet of it. Philip moves slowly, he is a vision woven with threads of silver, ethereal and more beautiful than anything Lukas has ever seen. The feel of him in his mouth, the taste of him tingling on his lips drags on without time. Lukas wonders, spinning in a daze untenably endless, he wonders if he is dreaming this or actually brushing his tongue across the thin stretch of moonlight on Philip’s bottom lip before Philip pulls away with a shiver and shimmies closer, eyes closed through the whole thing.

He rests his head onto Lukas’ pillow, tip of his nose nudging his cheek and his neck is a pathway at midnight glowing under the full moon and Lukas falls in step, pressing his lips there and tasting the sleep clad warmth of him. Philip's hand slides beneath his pillow and his leg wraps around his and then his arms come around him, tugging him flush into him. Lukas runs his hand down the arch of his spine over his shirt, fingers splaying at the small of his back and he feels the gentle roll of Philip’s hips beneath his hand, hears the sigh that catches on the back of his throat and his heart thrums a lost beat through his veins before Lukas moves with him, pressing his hand down and pulling him closer onto his thigh.

There is no measure of time as they sway on the edge of conscious thought and fall into a rhythm so listless, Lukas sees latent ocean waves; silent in the stupor of his head, lapping at shores barely an inch at a time. With his eyes closed, Lukas moves with him awake and he moves with him in his dream, chasing that intoxicating ache pulsing between his legs. A tremble of hot breath falls against his lips and he opens his eyes to find the brown of Philip’s, smoldering beneath heavy lids and the kiss that follows is a trance. The room dissolves around them. The feel of him burns its imprint behind Lukas’ eyelids. He can see him with eyes shut tight; something chimerical, something so utterly mystifying, he loses his breath and his whole body responds to the unbelievable poetry of him. His hand slides down Philip’s back and slips beneath his underwear, tugging it down and Philip’s tongue slides slow between his lips, his voice finds note and then it’s a whisper, a quiet catch of Lukas’ name, susurrating into the farthest crevices of him.

Lukas lets his body move on instinct, allows the muscle memory to remember and he slowly turns Philip around and takes him in his arms, pulling him into his chest and Philip arches into him, head fallen back, hands on Lukas’ arms circling his belly and Lukas won’t breach him, not when neither of them are fully awake, not when it’s sheer longing making them coast the edge of dreams and keeping them conscious enough to reach, to touch, to _want_ but hardly enough to _prepare_.

He moves a hand upwards and presses it flat against Philip’s heart. Then with his eyes closed, his face buried in Philip’s neck, he slides himself bare between the softness of his thighs, right into the arresting warmth beneath the heat of him his free hand closes around and Philip lets out a small ‘oh’ sound bristling tight in his throat and in the dizzying closeness, they breathe in unison, barely moving.

Philip’s heartbeat is heavy in his chest, a pounding measure of time under his hand and the bone-deep warmth of him burns hot everywhere they touch. Lukas slides slowly between Philip’s legs and Philip’s hand reaches down to meet him at the edge of his thrust. Lukas’ mouth falls open, burrows knit together and he breathes wetly against the curve of Philip’s neck, barely able to think through the haze. Philip throbs in his hand and Lukas tries his hardest to focus on the feel of him, and time his strokes with his languid thrusts between his legs. Philip bends like a bow in his arms, seeking to close every infinitesimal measure of space between them. He takes Lukas with longing, the muscles in his thighs going taut around him. With his head thrown back, his hair falls into his eyes and he reaches behind with his free hand to hold the back of Lukas’ head, fingers tangling into his hair. He barely makes a sound, just quiet gasps and trembling sighs falling into the darkness around them lined with delicate stripes of pale light.

There is so much warmth under the covers, they lie in a cloud of heat that breezes into them as they move against one another. Lukas holds him secure in his arms, his mouth slack on his neck, lips slick with kisses he has pressed into his skin and he pushes into him as the ache between his legs mounts with an incessant pace. It feels eternal, as if he could lie there buried in his warmth until the end of time, until his whole life became memory, a story someone had once written; an ashen whisper of flames set ablaze at the hands of Philip Shea. Against his chest, Philip shivers and Lukas tastes the goosebumps blooming across his skin, hears him choke back a moan and he feels his fingernails dig into his hair, scratching against his scalp. Lukas tightens his hold around him, his indolent pace finds an edge and Philip spills into his hand, hot and so sudden, at the feel of him shaking in his arms, Lukas feels the most awake he has felt since waking up to his dark eyes.

He whispers his name, strokes him through the waves and listens to him find his breath. Philip turns his head, his eyelashes drowning in the silver light and asks for his lips and Lukas gives them to him, he gives him everything until there isn’t air left in his lungs and Philip rocks against him, drawing him in and the heat sizzling at the core of him tingles in his mind, it tingles at the tips of his fingers and right when he feels he is losing his mind with it, release ruptures whole inside him. His forehead falls onto Philip’s shoulder and each wave is so heavy they burst alight in his vision, stealing the breath from the depths of his lungs. Philip rocks against him until every muscle in Lukas’ body goes slack and he is afloat in the mindless warmth of his release.

Lips pressing against the roll of Philip’s shoulder, too tired to even move to brush his hair out of his eyes, Lukas thinks of waking up in a few hours and remembering this. He wonders if he’ll know that it really happened or if he’ll stare at Philip dazed, trying to comprehend how he could ever dream of something so unworldly. Through the reverie, he distantly feels Philip wiping them clean with something soft and toss it away. The exhaustion in his bones aches with the weight of his release and he barely has the mind to notice Philip pressing a feather light kiss to his lips before he tugs Lukas' arms tight around his chest. Lukas holds onto him, pulling him so close into him, Philip fits inside the cage of his shoulders. He buries his face in the dark of Philip’s hair, his thumb brushing against his wrist and as the sleep he has hijacked into life descends onto him he mutters three words against the shell of Philip’s ear he won’t remember in the morning.

_Dream with me._


End file.
